


Queen of Peace

by lady_disdain026



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_disdain026/pseuds/lady_disdain026
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ethan returns, they are both in a pitiful stage. The light his dear Miss Ives used to shine on him may be gone forever. Yet, they will find solace somewhere unexpected, when life may finally bring them someone to help. </p>
<p>Ratings may change, I don't know exactly how far I'll take it, yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suddenly I'm overcome

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic in forever (to be honest I had given up on them and had been concentrating on RPing for a while, instead), so you comments are more than welcomed!
> 
> Also, this is the first chapter, it's shorter and everything because I just wanted to set it and all. More to come quite soon I think.

He saw her, at the window. He had been watching her for days now, close to a month even. Everyday, like clockwork, the slender, solemn, figure of Miss Ives would appear at five minutes past ten and stay seated there, her magnetic eyes glossed over with something he couldn’t quite understand, until way passed the time the sun set. Unmoving, not living, merely existing. From his little corner of street, Ethan watched over her but was never once seen. She looked over to him, from time to time, but the crooked silhouette in tattered clothes was so different than that of the tall, strong man she had last seen. They both were so different now. Both lost within themselves. A few times he wondered if anyone else noticed the brooding lady at the window, if anyone else worried. From afar, he guessed, Sir Malcolm must think about her, because couriers arrived almost daily with almost identical envelopes. But not even once did he see he read one, or answer. So he had to stay on, to guard her. From down there, in the streets, within a secure distance. Never hurting her was the only thing Ethan ever did that he was proud of, and for as long as he lived, Vanessa would be safe. Even it if meant for him to rip his heart out and throw it away every single time he glanced at her.

His gloved fingers clenched and unclenched at his side almost a hundred times, as the wind swayed his unstable form standing on the porch. How long has he been standing there? He didn’t even remember emerging from his little piece of sidewalk, nor walking up the cobblestone way or climbing up the few stairs two by two. He tried to move away, turning on his heels and going back into hiding. This wasn’t smart, this wasn’t brave, it was just plain stupid and dangerous. He was a wanted man… and a few hours away from the full moon. Every last atom of his body told him to leave. And then, as he weakly allowed himself one last look up to the window, he was met by two dimmed down icy blue orbs, piercing right through his heart, all the way to his legs that buckled a bit under the weight of her stare. Never look into your opponent’s eyes. You’d think by now he would’ve known that. They fixed him to the ground. He was paralyzed by fear. Fear of what he could do. Fear of what she had become, of the lack of life behind those eyes, fear of the ghost he had witnessed and looked over, fear that it was his fault… If leaving had been wrong, coming back was the worst idea. 

As he snapped back to reality, she was gone. The spell she had on him was even stronger now, the marksman realized, that they had been apart, and that he had missed her. Every fibre of his being needed her. He understood the good doctor, he understands that physiological need for something that felt so good but was so wrong. It would be doing everyone a favour to run away again, for good. And mustering every drop of courage and self control he had kept. Ethan did just that. He turned his back to the dammed estate. A soft caress, barely felt brush of soft thin hands against his wrist, put a halt to his plans. He didn’t dare turn around, he didn’t have to. He could just feel her, smell her, see her between his closed lids. He knew her that much. “Mr. Chandler…” The whisper was low and stuck halfway through her throat. How long has is been since she’d even uttered a word to someone? He wasn’t sure if she was asking or stating a fact. Maybe she’d forgotten him over th months. It would make it easier to go again, as he resolved himself to do. In a second or two, maybe. Just a delectable little moment more, to soak up all of her he could, and then he would be gone forever this time. 

Her frail and shaky hands slid up his fingers, his palm, all the way to the bend of his elbow where they closed down, pulling softly, begging. “Tell me this isn’t a trick of my insane mind.“ Her voice, broken, floated barely above a whisper to his ear. Damn this intoxicating woman, the American cursed in his mind, pulling his hand down as it tried to reach for her soft fingers. Her felt the young woman’s touch getting firmer against his muscles, as she squeezed and rubbed, trying to make sure he was really there, close enough to touch, alive… 

“Ethan…” A muffled noise came from the tall man, almost making Vanessa jump at the suddenness of his reaction. Before she knew it, she was pulled forcefully against him, tightly held at the back by two stong arms, and pulled down to the floor as the American’s knees buckled and let him sink to the ground. She could feel the desperate marks his fingers would leave on the soft porcelain skin underneath her dress, as he clung to her for dear life. Her body against him was rocked by his sobs, each time shaking violently her small frame. “What happened to you?” She cradled his head against her breasts, letting her own tears get lost in his hair. She wouldn’t get and answer, and wasn’t sure she wanted one either.


	2. dissolving like a setting sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY SORRY SORRY! It's taken me too long to post this! I was so crazy busy this week. But here, have it, the second chapter. Still a lot of blah-blah/character's arc instalment. The real action is coming in the next chapter, when I'll finally introduce this mysterious new character of my mind, the "queen of peace".
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took the time to leave kudos and comments, super appreciated. Please keep it up. I love you guys.
> 
> P.S. Sorry for the crappy ending, I NEVER know how to end chapters and stuff.

The first thing he noticed was how cold her hands were. Ethan had watched the woman slave over the dying fire, and meticulously pour out two cups of tea from the slightly dusty samovar –the proof she hadn’t entertained that many visitors in the past months- and yet, when his fingers grazed the soft expanse of skin that offered him a beverage, they were as cold as death. Somehow, it didn’t come as such a shock as he’d expect. Everything he remembered her for, everything he had clung to every minute they were apart, was gone. Her pale skin that glowed with an aura of mystery now seemed even paler, almost translucent, fitting for the ghost of herself Vanessa seemed to be. Those hypnotizing blue orbs were still as fascinating, but he was now getting lost in a very dark and endless abyss, instead of being mesmerized for hours by that little glimmer of light that always twinkled in there. 

The silence between them stretched and stretched uncomfortably. Neither wanted to break it and say the wrong thing… or the right thing. It really was a sad state of affairs and for the first time in months, Vanessa blessed inwardly the departure of any other resident of Grandage Place. Surely they would’ve been pained to witness such a strange and boring encounter. She could practically hear Sir Malcolm clearing his throat, trying to wake either of them out of their torpor, or the feel sweet Doctor sighing and rolling his eyes at such foolishness. Yet she did nothing to change the situation, using the steaming beverage as something to hide behind.

The American copied her movement, raising the cup slowly to his lips, but stopped halfway. The way the steam unfurled against his face, the particular smell of the brew he had only managed to find in this household, all of it brought his mind to only one place. One person, the one who used to serve him a beverage or two. For months, the marksman had spent every second pushing his guilt to the very bottom of his soul, the remorse he felt too big to be allowed to reach his mind, Ethan feared he might implode if left dwelling too long on his friend and what he did to him. The taste of Sembene’s flesh still clung to his mouth, metallic, raw, bitter. That and the brief taste the man had of miss Ives’ full lips. Those were the two things he carried around for months, the two memories torturing and dividing his soul into millions of pieces that Ethan didn,t think could ever fit again. He was not a proper man, he couldn’t be even if he tried, and that was what kept him away for so long. He belonged to Vanessa, he knew, but he didn’t deserve her. But it was too late now. He had lost the only chance he’d have of keeping her safe by staying away, and he hated himself a little bit more for it.

“Miss Ives,” Ethan finally rasped out, his voice hoarse with unwanted feelings of guilt and sadness. He couldn’t bear to look at her, finding the tip of his tattered boots suddenly very interesting, but he felt the heavy piercing gaze on his face and allowed himself to continue. “No one can know I’m here. In this house. In this country. No one. I am sure you understand why. You have to promise me.” Was that a hint of desperation she had perceived in his voice? The dark haired beauty couldn’t quite grasp if he was begging or just distrusting of her for some reason. “My dear Mr. Chandler,” in a few quiet strides, Vanessa found herself sitting by her friend’s side and clutching both of his hands in hers. She tried very hard not to focus on the feeling of the rough and callous digits under her soft ones, or how much she had missed all of this, and instead gave a quick squeeze. “Why would I share you with the world if can keep you for myself?” The little charming smirk she attempted somehow lacked the spark it had in the past. It seemed so wrong to act so familiar with the man, yet falling in seriousness would be too sad and disheartening. Wasn’t their situation already gloomy enough? With an equally weak smile, the American brought her hands, still firmly clasped over his, up to his lips very softly. Against his skin, he could feel the pulse from her wrists quicken at the gesture, and it did make the smile a smidge broader, more genuine. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be of any great company to you, Vanessa.” He protested in what he hoped was an equally light tone. “Especially not when night falls on this day.” He had to admit bitterly. At the window, the sun was already shining inside. It was a matter of a few hours, if that, before the night was completely surrounding them, bringing the painfully round moon with it. “I think we’ll make I through the nigh, Ethan. Your quarters in the basement are still intact.”


End file.
